I think the most unique experience I've ever had with a man is fisting. I enjoy a good fisting session just as much as the next person when it's done by someone who knows exactly what they're they're doing -- this includes keeping nails at a proper length as to scratch the inside of my pussy on accident, knowing how many fingers to place inside my pussy to start and when to add more, and of course, when to give me the whole fist. Yes, I enjoy a good fisting session when I have the right individual nestled between my legs. So in that case, what makes fisting so unique with a man? When I'm the one doing the fisting.

Just like I've met many of my other sexual partners as an adult, I found this six foot man interested in the same thing I was -- fisting. But I wouldn't discover that he loved it the same way I did until our meeting when he took me to his place.

He picked me up from my place in one of the old 1960 Ford rickety trucks that didn't sound to rickety or old, but you knew had been around for a few generations. It was a red truck, that reminded me of one of those red flyer wagons -- cherry red. Cream colored interior, not new, but not worn. Come to find out, he worked with many movie studio production companies restoring old and classic cars for sets or even for buyers. He had a loft he worked out of on the southeast side of downtown, a handful of cars in production of their own. I remember him being quite the gentleman in opening my door and leading the way to the top level of his place, where I assumed, he did most of his living. In a nice open space on the floor, he arrange a blanket -- picnic style -- for us the lay and play on. Surrounded by the blanket was much of his work. He lived there, but evidence also showed he worked there too. No matter. The kind of work we were going to be engaged in shortly had nothing to do with cars. Or framework. But there would be lots of drive and motors would be running.

I remember getting undress and peeling off my clothes in front of him while he watched. First removing my sandals, then my leggings and panties. Next, lifting off my blouse and unclasping my bra, creating a small pile of clothes on the floor. I walked over to where he had the blanket spread and laid onto of it, as he too, removed all his clothing barriers. As I laid flat on my back, his hands began to roam all over body, getting a feel for me and outlining all of curves. Then, purposefully, making his way between my legs to part them fuck them with his fingers. He started off slow enough, gradually slipping in one finger after another, coming close, my not quite to getting his whole fist in my pussy. He had position one of my legs onto of his shoulder to get better access and hit a better angle, but a tight pussy is a tight pussy. He came close to making me cum, which is to say, it was pleasurable enough at the time. And he would attempt the same orgasm goal a couple more times that night before to returning me home with a slightly sore pussy.

But he was curious as to how I "got into" fistng. Did I ever have a girlfriend? No. Did I ever experiment with other women? No. Was I telling him the truth? Yes, why would I lie? In his mind, fisting is something lesbians were into. In other words, it was not something that fell into heteronormativity. So? I liked to be fisted and when I found a man who claimed he was good at fisting, I went for it. Like I went for him. He was intrigued, nonetheless. He too was interested. But as the receiver as well. He had a girlfriend not too many moons ago, that turned him onto it and ever since, he hasn't been able to get enough. Would I be interested in fisting him? I've never fisted a man before. Yes, I dated a cross-dresser for a short while and I am familiar with fucking a man in the ass with a dildo, but fisting him with my ass? That was never offered or asked for. Never on the menu. But I was more curious about trying this than anything else. I never done to a man what they've done to me. It would be interesting to make a man squirm and cum from the same force and pleasure that's been parted on me (on a few occasions).

So roles were reversed. I was between his legs and he spread himself unto me. It was a feeling of power for a short time. That required a lot of lube. I had to slick my hand all the way to my wrist o make sure I would be able to glide in his overly tight asshole. If I thought my pussy was tight, his asshole was bone-crushing tight. I slide in one finger first, never having put any of my fingers in a man's ass before. As I noticed how nicely that glided in, I added another one. He started to moan ever so slightly. Then I added a third finger. Gliding and pumping as smoothly as I could, being mindful my nails and how far I was going inside. His breathing had hitched and picked up pace. The I added a fourth finger. This it where things began getting tight. Really right. He instructed me to pump a little harder and faster and I did my best to oblige. He raised his legs off the floor in an attempt to give me better depth to his tight ass and I took this opportunity to slip in my thumb with the rest of my digits. The muscles in his ass began to immediately at the intrusion of my fingers and yet, he still egged me on to go harder and deeper. I pumped as hard and as consistently as I could using whatever strength I had in my upper arms to drive my whole hand into that asshole of his. Gradually, as I continued to fuck him with my hand, his ass kept squeezing my hand to point of pain. His arousal was so heighten, my hand was throbbing from the constant contraction of his ass muscle. Simply put, my hand hurt. And he was close to cumming. But if I continued any further, I wouldn't have any feeling in my hand to finish off or do anything the 100 things I regularly do with that hand.

But that's not to say we were done. We gave me a couple of his dildos to select from, to lube up and I went to town. I fucked him real gone in this ass with a nice size dildo. His muscles continued to spasm and contract, but now it was no longer around my hand causing me any discomfort. I pumped him good. I fucked him hard and I made him say my name. He was squirming and quivering, grinding his hips against the dildo as I kept up the pace. And I could I see that he was building back up to an orgasm so I did what any normal person would do. I fucked him harder and faster with that thick dildo. I made him beg for it and he did. A few times. Am I bragging? Maybe. But I made him cum twice. And that is a very powerful position I have not enjoyed. Needless to say the night ended on a high note. Once he came down after cumming twice, we both redress and he took him. He mentioned a few times how impressed he was and that it's been a very long time anyone has ever made him cum like that. When he dropped my back home, he made it very clear that he'd keep the door open for us to repeat the evening's activities as often as we'd like, if I was interested. I smiled and said I'd let him know. Not sure if he took that for an automatic "yes", but he sure looked pumped when he drove off.